


Surely to the Sea

by Elsey8



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Character Study, Falling In Love, Fluff, Inspiration, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:53:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29234847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsey8/pseuds/Elsey8
Summary: Yusuke doesn't believe in love. As a general rule he tries to stay away from it, actually.But what are rules without their exceptions?
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	Surely to the Sea

Yusuke has never believed in love. In any kind of love. He knows there are multiple kinds, he knows every in and out of familial, romantic, sexual, and otherwise  _ love.  _

He's seen the way it's represented in art. Passion and lust and obsession. 

None of what he’s seen matches the sweet, soft, all encompassing ideas in things he reads about it. Frankly, he thinks love is...hopeless. 

Madarame told him it was for fools who had the time to waste on people who didn't matter in the end. Madarame told him a lot of things, and just about none of them described love in any kind of good light, using the idea to shame Yusuke and slander his mother's name. 

Yusuke has only ever been hurt by the people he's loved, so he decided not to believe in it anymore. That was fine enough, it didn’t really matter anyway. 

And then there's the Phantom Thieves. 

He'd seen vanilla curls and gone after them without thinking. Her body composition, the way she carried herself, all of it spoke to a grace and beauty in human form. Surely he could paint something at least modeled after her, surely that's something Madarame would be able to use. 

That was all he could think, he was consumed by the relief that he may be able to appease Madarame, so he followed her. Ann wasn't so angry when he explained himself, and although she seemed a little put off by him, she didn't refuse. 

Yusuke couldn't help but take note of the other two with her. Ryuji has always been Ryuji in his own way, expressive and hot headed. Yusuke would paint him if he could at all begin to capture the movement that matters. 

Akira...

Akira is gorgeous. Akira is stunning, he is more ethereal than anything Yusuke has ever seen before in his life. Yusuke had never seen a living, breathing work of art before that moment. 

When he first looked at Akira, Akira was looking back curiously. His eyelashes fluttered behind glasses, before settling into open and inquisitive. The darkest eyes Yusuke has ever seen, deep and swirling. There were so many stories waiting behind stormy irises 

His mouth parted slightly open like he was going to say something, then thought better and shut it again. His posture was casual but alert, and not for a single moment did he take his eyes off of Yusuke. He was so still he could've been a painting already. 

But Akira isn’t something Madarame would want to use, so Yusuke manages to gather enough inspiration to ask Ann to be his model instead. Everything about it feels wrong. 

Yusuke finds that it's in his chest. That feeling Akira brings up in him, it's a weight in the middle of his chest that sometimes hurts and sometimes is just warm. Sometimes it’s sharp, it threatens to tear him open from the inside. Sometimes it’s soft, it stays in place pleasantly and makes his whole body relax. It’s a physical object that sits there, an obstruction that he has to work around. It makes it harder to sleep, to move, to breathe. 

Akira doesn't speak often. He watches more than anything, like a grand overseer in day to day life. Ann and Ryuji bicker and poke fun at one another, and he simply glances at them sidelong and listens while he pretends not to be paying attention at all. Yusuke is fooled by it the first few moments, but eventually learns to pick up the fact that Akira is  _ always  _ listening. Even when he’s trying to do several other things at once, juggling each with increasing difficulty, he still listens intently enough to recite each word back. 

When things tip into hostile territory in any conversations, he easily brings it back with a well placed, "Guys." or "Stop it."

His sharp cut ins, limited to a few words at most, always get them to step back and apologize to one another. It happens several times while Yusuke is supposed to be sketching Ann. 

He keeps messing up. He keeps following the curve of Akira's jaw rather than Ann's waist. 

He keeps creating things that Madarame won't accept, and maybe that's why he snaps at them.

Ann comes back, somehow. She comes back, and he really tries. He does, but she's hard to understand on a good day and he hasn't eaten in a good few. 

He's tired and hungry, and he doesn't want to be painting her at all. He told her not to take Ryuji or Akira with her, because he would never get anything done with either of them here too. As it is, his mind is wandering. 

All he can see in his mind, all his hands ache to do is try to get the curve on Akira’s eyelashes right. 

This is for the best. He forces himself to focus on Ann, and he tells himself this is for the best. 

And then they're in the room, there are all the fakes, Madarame is there and he's so angry, and then...they're in the Metaverse. 

Akira's mask is white with black accents, his vest is a dark grey that pairs well to counteract the black jacket and pants. As he walks over to him and Ann collapsed on the floor, the heeled boots he's wearing clack against the tiling. He pulls red gloves up further onto his wrist and then helps Yusuke up. 

He's strong. Yusuke isn't heavy, but he  _ is  _ taller than Akira. He pulls Yusuke up easily with one hand, like he doesn't weigh anything at all. 

"Sorry," he says. 

Yusuke hides his fingers twitching by wrapping both arms around his stomach. 

"I'm...fine," he insists weakly.

Yusuke can feel his heart in his stomach. It's beating so hard he can feel it press against his ribs, curling around the bone in an attempt to break free. He really wonders if he's going to die because he honestly can't breathe very well. Can his heart actually beat out of his chest? 

That would make a nice painting. 

His fingers twitch again, incessant. 

"Are you okay? I'm sorry for dragging you in here," Ann murmurs, hand resting on his shoulder. 

"It's quite alright," he dismisses. 

He isn't even looking at her. He can't take his eyes away from Akira. 

Are his eyes red? His eyes look red. They definitely aren’t normally red, so Yusuke wonders if at some point the hunger made him pass out. This could very well be a dream. 

That would explain why Akira is...like this. 

But Yusuke can feel the pain as he digs his nails into his arms. 

"Come on, may as well proceed," Akira commands, and starts walking. 

It's the most words Yusuke has heard out of him at once. Six words, a whole sentence with a breath in between the two phrases. Yusuke has never heard a comma in a sentence that is woven as beautifully as Akira has done. 

"You up for that?" Ryuji asks. 

Yusuke can only nod dumbly.

Akira isn't obvious about it, so Yusuke doesn't notice at first. 

But he takes them certain ways specifically to show Yusuke things. He walks them slowly past the portraits until they stand next to Yusuke's. At which point he starts going through his bag suddenly, dishing out items to the others as they stand awkwardly there and let Yusuke look. 

Akira doesn't say anything, but only moves on once Yusuke averts his eyes. 

Akira walks slowly, which Yusuke knows can't be how he normally moves, because every time they get close to one of those enemies he runs up at it like he's never known another way. He rips their masks off with a flash of red and runs back to pull the team together. They fight easily, coordinated and beautiful. It's like a choreographed dance more than a fight, the way Akira calls out orders and sends resources in a million different directions at once. 

Akira nudges him without being obvious. He wants Yusuke to see all these things, and he only realizes why when they come face to face with Madarame and Goemon wakes him up like a bucket of ice water.

Akira's grin is wild. His laughter is unrestrained, even more mad. 

Akira switches through masks like nothing, he commands his own personas as easily as he does the team without breaking a sweat. And when he asks Yusuke to show him what he can do, Yusuke does. He gives Akira everything, because giving him any less would just be an insult. 

Just before they leave, the talking cat starts talking about codenames. Morgana, that is. 

Everyone is silent, looking at him. Feeling put on the spot, he can't do much more than hum to show them he heard and is thinking. 

His mind is moving far too fast, and yet still too slow, to really think much at all. Adrenaline is still making him shake. 

And then Akira's hand reaches up and strokes the top of his mask. Yusuke stops moving, he freezes and just stares. 

Akira’s eyes are flickering from red back to grey. He is quiet for a handful of moments, and then he gestures to Yusuke's mask. 

"It's like a kitsune," he explains. 

Less words than before. Still, combined with the motion from before and the suggestion non suggestion for a codename, it still makes Yusuke's throat dry up. 

"Fox," he murmurs. 

"Alright, Fox." Akira smirks and pulls out his phone. "Welcome to the team."

Love is not something for Yusuke. Love is too far away, too out of his reach. It's a useless endeavor to pursue, even if he longs to love and be loved in return. 

Love hurt him too much for too long to be meant for him. 

Yusuke has known Akira for just over a week when he realizes he never had a choice. 

Akira smells a little like coffee all of the time, sometimes he dozes while they're together although he's always paying attention, he is beautiful and quiet but careful, he is unequivocally their Leader. He is kind, he is thoughtful, he can be snarky but he saves it for special occasions. His hesitancy to speak only makes the instances that he does stand out, only makes him easier to listen to. It's not hard to follow him because there was never any other way to go about things. He is Akira, and Yusuke is falling in love with him. 

He shouldn't. He can't. He doesn't want to. 

But he is anyway. He’s only able to put a name to a feeling that’s been consuming him slowly this whole time. 

After Madarame, Akira doesn't quit. He doesn't stop. He won't give up. 

He helps Yusuke even when his inspiration is little more than a spark in him every time he sees Akira's eyes. He whisks Akira everywhere on these little journeys for more inspiration, and Akira lets it happen. He doesn’t tell Akira that the inspiration has nothing to do with what they’re doing or where they’re going, but rather the company they share. 

He doesn’t think he can tell him that. 

Akira talks more, the more time they spend together. He stumbles over certain things. Pleasantries and compliments make him stutter, like he's not used to it. But when it comes to conviction...

When Akira tells him he can do it, that he's stronger than he thinks, that he is wonderful as he is. That's when his voice is loud and clear, leaving no room for arguments. 

Yusuke creates the piece about human hope and despair, and that's that. Yusuke is happy enough with it. 

But finally he feels like the pressure has let up, and that's when he lets Akira consume what's still left of him. When the feeling in his chest feels lighter if just for the way he paints, for the way he loves. 

He can't help it. He can't stop himself, and for once the lack of meals doesn't come from Madarame but rather his own inspiration starving him. 

He paints Akira as he loves Akira, and that's that. He’s pleased with that. 

Still, it's Akira who comes to him. 

The painting is drying in the window, away from him. 

Akira walks right through the door, like this is where he lives and not Yusuke, and Yusuke doesn't get a single word out before he's talking. 

"Listen, I...do you want to go out?"

Akira stretches a hand out towards him, fingers half curled into his palm like he's not even expecting Yusuke to take it. It could be more of a hand gesture than a reach, but Yusuke has begun to learn the differences between Akira’s mircotells and this seems like more of a reach to him. 

"Where?" Yusuke asks calmly. 

"It doesn't matter where. Anywhere, I mean." Akira clenches his fist. "I know you don't need me anymore because you got the painting done, but it's not for that. It's..." 

Akira reaches his hand out again, fingers stretched out and palm flat. A full reach, now. 

"It's for me," he says quietly. 

Yusuke turns the painting around, listens for Akira's sharp inhale, and then turns to take Akira's now limp hand. He fits his fingers in between the spaces of Akira's, comfortably. He thinks the paint on his hand may smudge most of the way off onto Akira’s, but there is no pulling away. 

Akira squeezes his hand, and Yusuke lets himself smile when he squeezes back and answers, "I'd love to."

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, feel free to come talk to me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Gillian01430581)


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